“Well, that’s a pity. ‘Cos I was going to invite you to a meeting
this evening at 5.30 at the Café Novio on Brunswick Street.”

“Ooh! Romance!”
His voice took on the fruity cadences of an old-fashioned TV or film
announcer. “Two laonely gays mayt for
the first time over coffee. One thing layds to another and before ya knaow it
….”

“I’m ending this call
right now,” said Jason, choking back a laugh.
“5.30, at the Novio, OK? I’ve got
something important to tell you, you idiot.”

“What?”

“Goodbye, my sweet, light
of my life, heart of my heart’s desiring.”

As Jason ended the called
he could have sworn he heard Keith say “Demented” in a weary tone at the other
end. He grinned to himself. He felt, all at once, ridiculously happy.

Wednesday, 29 April 2015

Luigi saw it in his
face. “He’ll be your friend too, you
know. He’s a top bloke. He’s kind. He’s been through pain and loss himself, and
it’s made him … better. I think before
Brent killed himself, he was maybe a little arrogant.” Perhaps,
he thought to himself, it was that trace of
arrogance which first drew me to him.
My need to be humiliated by a straight manly bloke. Well, he thought with determination, I’m putting that behind me. I’m going to
make a success of my relationship with Cody.
I am.

Cody didn’t answer. He knew Luigi was right. Despite that, it seemed to him, somewhere in
is darkest imaginings, that he was alone, that Philippa had left him, and that
Luigi’s heart, whatever he said, was given to another. I’ve
totally screwed up my life, he thought bitterly. A fuck
up. A failure.

Luigi reached out brushed
a finger across Cody’s lips, softly and gently.
His dark olive black eyes were warm and loving. He didn’t speak, but all the same, Cody felt
better.

Monday, 27 April 2015

“And now to tell the
others.” Jason sighed. “It’s going to be hard. Like coming out. Because I’ve been lying to them.”

“No you haven’t!” Eleanor
was indignant. “You don’t have to tell
people everything about yourself! You’re
entitled to private things. And if you
set aside your money because you wanted it to not be significant in your life,
then, why should you tell them about
it?”

“Well, I did say, when I told
them about Brent, that I was rich and that was part of what … so they do know
that. But the title … and all that
family history, going back nine hundred years.
It’s … too much.”

“Well, I’ve always thought
that business of assessing a family just by its male members was silly. What about all the ordinary women who married
into the family? There must have been
some. I mean, when you go back far
enough, all of us have hundreds of ancestors. You’ve probably got a few
peasants in your ancestry! But don’t ignore the power of a title in
Australia. You will be newsworthy. And some people will be hostile, just because
you have a title. You should be able to
use it to get publicity, to persuade people to give your home money. Anyway, I don’t think they’ll care. It’s …” she coloured slightly and looked away,
‘it’s not as if they don’t know you, um, intimately.”

It was Jason’s turn to
blush. He cleared his throat.

Lucasta said, “Well, my
dear, certainly I have some quite ordinary people in my family tree like the
wife of my grandfather who was a dancer from Paris so useful to be able to
dance I loved it with your grandfather and that was partly why I learned French
you know which I love and I remember her quite well such a pretty elegant woman
with a charming accent she used to call me darleeeng when I was little and tell
me fairy tales in French but I think there were many who cut her and
grandfather because of who she was so cruel and stupid really. And here I am your grandmother and so proud of
you my dear.”

Monday, 20 April 2015

“That could be a hundred
years away, grandam!” joked Jason.
“You’re indestructible. Seriously, grandam, I hope it is.” He reached across the table and took her
hand. “I love you. And you too, Eleanor. My honorary grandmother. I’m so glad I came here to this house the
first day I arrived. You made me feel
welcome and at home. Australia made me feel
wanted and liked and accepted, despite being a toff and speaking with a funny
accent.” He swallowed the lump in his
throat. “I just hope my news doesn’t
change my friendships with Keith and Esmé and Lou. Because the money I have won’t be for
me—except for airfares to visit you, grand—but for the home. So I won’t actually be any richer. Not really.”

“They won’t change,”
asserted Eleanor with complete assurance.
“They’re your friends and they love you for you. As I do.
What’s more, I can help you.”

Jason raised his eyebrows.

“You can have one of the
houses in the terrace.”

“That wouldn’t be fair on
you.” Jason had no idea she owned more
than the house they were in.

“I’ll do it in memory of
Bart. And for you. And anyway, I own the whole terrace. This was the first house I owned, but when
I’d paid off a lot of the mortgage, I bought the others one by one and used the
rent to pay off the loans, and now I have more than enough. I’d like to help.”

Sunday, 19 April 2015

“When I came here, after
Brent …. killed himself, I decided not to use my money, because in the end it
was money and fussing about money that killed Brent. And my selfishness. So I decided to work for my living and not
use any of my inheritance. But money is
like any other weapon—or tool. It can be
used for good. And if you have money and
… um … high birth you have power, power to do good. And I thought, you know, there’s Keith who
was thrown out of home because he was gay, or bi, anyway, and Bart who was driven
to his death”—his voice faltered for a moment—“and then Brent, who wasn’t
driven out of his home by his parents and was accepted by all the blokes in the
cricket club but wasn’t accepted by my … by who I used to think were my
friends. So I’m going to make a
difference. Something to change the
world, something to help gay and bisexual and lesbian and trans young people so
that they can come to terms with themselves and be happy.”